


Breakup Series

by Bethynyc



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Break Up, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-03
Updated: 2005-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethynyc/pseuds/Bethynyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley and Giles get together, break up, and get together again. AU of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where Wesley doesn't go to LA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of drabbles and two ficathon pieces that all sort of work together. Posted here by request. I will work on posting other longer works and series from my fic journal to my AO3 account. 
> 
> Originally written and posted in 2005--ten years ago. I truly hope that my writing has improved since then!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters--Joss Whedon and 20th Century Fox do. I'm just playing with them.

Wesley still wasn’t entirely sure how it happened. One minute he was packing to leave Sunnydale, before the motel manager threw him and his belongings into the street, and the next Mr. Giles was there, being friendly of all things. When he asked about why he was packing, Wesley mentioned that the management of the establishment wanted him out.

Giles grimaced at that. “Council cut you off, then.”

The younger man drew himself up to his full height, raising his chin. He wasn’t going to have to put up with Mr. Giles’ condescending attitude any longer, now that he was leaving Sunnydale. “I’ve decided to become an independent contractor.”

“And sacked you. Bastards.” Giles shook his head. “Where do you plan to go?”

Turning back to his packing, Wesley let his annoyance show. “I don’t know. Why do you even care? You know, if you had left when they fired _you_ , I might actually have had some authority over those girls!”

“Wesley, if I’d left, all of you would be dead.” Giles started putting books in boxes. “Didn’t you even think about why the Council would send a completely green Watcher with no field experience to a Hellmouth with two Slayers?”

“I expect it was because—”

“They wanted Buffy and Faith dead.”

Silence for a moment, and then Wesley turned, fury in his eyes. “I was sent here to guide them, not as some sort of _executioner_!” He pushed Giles against the wall. “How dare you accuse me of that!”

“No, Wesley, I don’t think you wanted them dead. But the Council wants obedient, tractable Slayers, ones they can control. Think, man! You have a brain, use it!”

Wesley paused, taken aback by the conviction in Mr. Giles’ eyes. He remembered his final phone calls to the Council, and his retort died unspoken. When he had reported Buffy’s rebellion, Travers had been livid. The Council team sent to retrieve Faith had been callous, caring nothing for the rehabilitation called for in these situations. His mind awhirl with thoughts, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Everything that had happened in Sunnydale—vampires, Balthazar, Mayor Wilkins—all were totally unlike what he had been taught to expect. He recalled an early conversation with Giles.

_“You won’t find many of those here.”_

_“What, vampires?”_

_“Controlled circumstances.”_

He buried his head in his hands. “You’re probably right.” Wesley sighed and took off his glasses. “The Council’s goals may not be as—pure as I was taught to believe. I wasn’t at all prepared for the reality of being a Watcher, despite my training.” It hurt to admit that he had been used so poorly by the institution that he had been bred to serve. He suspected that it would be worse when the numbness wore off. He laughed bitterly. “I was utterly useless. For God’s sakes, Xander would have been a better Watcher!”

With an expressive eye roll, Giles sat next to Wesley. “As a fellow ex-Watcher, I say bollocks to that. Prove the Council wrong.” When Wesley didn’t respond, he continued softly. “You really don’t have anywhere to go, do you?”

Wesley shook his head slowly.

The upshot of the remainder of the conversation was Giles inviting Wesley to stay at his apartment for the night. Wesley would have a bit of a respite to decide what he wanted to do with his life.

Unfortunately, Wesley had no idea what to do. He felt completely adrift, lost without the stern hand of the Council guiding him.

Could he really survive on his own? Best to put that decision off until later. Much, much later.

***

That evening found the two of them on the couch, glasses off, stocking feet resting on boxes. One empty bottle of Macallan single malt was tipped onto its side, while the second one rested safely, if partially emptied, on the side table.

“I envied you, you know,” slurred Wesley.

“What, me? Why?”

“You did…things. You were a legend at the Academy. My father used you as an object lesson; what not to do, but secretly I wanted…” Wesley took another large gulp of the whiskey. “You were cool. I could never be cool. Used to walk past the awards case…” His eyes went wide, as if he had admitted far too much.

Giles leaned to face Wesley, sitting sideways on the couch. “You had a crush on me?”

Beet red, Wesley drank some more and coughed, before nodding.

Lazily, Giles smiled, expression reminiscent of a cat in a dairy. Barely thinking, he reached out to touch the back of Wesley’s neck. “You know, when I first saw you, I thought, ‘What a pity he’s such a Council prat, because he is so bloody gorgeous.’”

“Me?” Wesley squeaked.

“You.” The older man moved closer, cupping the back of Wesley’s head. “What do you want, Wesley?”

Wesley knew, but still could not wholly articulate his longing. “Don’t know…” he whispered, before taking Giles’ face in his hands and kissing him gently. Some portion of the fiasco with Cordelia stuck in his head, so instead of lunging for the tonsils, he caressed Giles’ mouth softly with his lips, allowing him to take the lead.

Giles relaxed, very slowly allowing the kiss to grow in passion. He caressed Wesley’s neck briefly before dropping his hand down to unbutton his shirt.

A tiny sound emerged from Wesley’s throat at the touch, and his hands slipped to Giles’ shoulders. His fingers clenched spasmodically as the older man’s hand sought out skin. Wesley slid down the arm of the couch, until he was half reclining with Giles on top of him.

Wesley’s shirt was completely open now, and Giles moved down to nibble at his neck. At that sensation, the younger man arched, bringing their groins into contact. Giles growled. Wesley whimpered.

“Upstairs?” Giles breathed in Wesley’s ear.

Wesley nodded furiously, turning to capture his mouth again and cupping Giles’ arse at the same time. Giles moaned into Wesley’s mouth at the feel of him. “Yes. Now.”

Shirts were discarded on the landing, trousers on the short trek to the bed, and soon hands were roaming, tugging at cloth and elastic, until both men were naked, hard, and panting.

Giles pulled Wesley close for a bruising kiss. Wesley’s arm automatically snaked around his waist, pulling him closer. Cocks touched, lightly at first, then rougher as they ground their hips together. Hands wandered, taking in the varieties of skin on the other.

At first, Wesley was on his back, barely able to think as Giles trailed his tongue down his neck to his chest. The playful nips and soothing licks were unlike anything he had ever experienced. He couldn’t help but gasp as Giles’ mouth sent electrical shocks through his body, shocks that went directly to his groin. “Please,” was all he could say. The alcohol burned out of his body, leaving him hypersensitive to every touch.

When Giles reached his cock, Wesley could not believe the pleasure thrumming through him. A long, slow lick up from the base left Wesley whimpering in pleasure. He knew if this went on much longer, he would— _come_ ; he could barely even think the word.

Somehow, Giles understood that and stopped. “Have you ever…?”

Wesley shook his head in reply, mouthing ‘No’ while flushing. “N-not with a man,” he whispered.

Giles smiled at that, and it reassured Wesley. “We’ll take it slow, then, and you tell me if we should stop.” He sat up on his heels and Wesley could see just how very hard Giles was. Hard for _him_.

With that, Wesley scrambled to his knees and pressed his body against the older man, kissing him almost frantically. The thought that Giles found him attractive, wanted him physically, and yet was willing to be patient with his inexperience astounded him.

Giles arranged him on his hands and knees, keeping one hand on his back to soothe and connect while he shuffled for the lube and condom with the other. Gently murmuring nonsense words, he stretched Wesley, preparing him. The intimate touch, a mix of discomfort and pleasure, caused a groan to escape from Wesley’s throat. He had never been so hard, so eager before in his life.

The cool lube warmed up quickly, and Wesley moaned and spread his knees further apart when Giles withdrew his fingers.

“Please, Rupert.” Wesley felt needy, and at the same time certain that this need would be met.

“Need you, Wesley.” Giles slipped on the condom quickly. “Just breathe, and relax.” With that, he slid inside slowly.

Both men gasped at the feeling that overtook their bodies. Wesley had never felt so filled and fulfilled. He pushed back against Giles the tiniest bit. Giles thrust inside, deeply, hands on Wesley’s hips. The sounds from Wesley might have been ‘more’ but neither could be certain. Giles slowly withdrew and thrust shallowly several times before plunging in to the hilt. Wesley arched at that moment, feeling Giles’ cock brush against his prostate.

Soon they found a rhythm, and Giles reached around to strip Wesley’s cock in time to his thrusts.

They sped up, both keening in time to the strokes. The combined effect of Giles inside him and fondling his cock was too much for Wesley. He was more out of control than ever before. Somehow, he choked out a warning before he came, only to feel Giles’ hand squeezing around his penis, encouraging him in his release.

The ripple of Wesley’s orgasm sent shock waves through Giles’ body. Two-three more pushes sent him over the edge, pulsing his seed inside.

Both men dripped with sweat, panting for a moment or two in an effort to recover. Finally, they separated long enough to clean up and change the sheets before curling up together, still naked.

Quietly, they listened to each other breathe, relaxing in the afterglow.

After a while, Wesley sighed and began to draw himself away from their embrace. He lowered his eyes, as if afraid to look at Giles directly. “Thank you, Rupert.”

Giles looked at him, a little confused. “That was the saddest thank you I have ever heard.” He pulled gently on Wesley’s arm, coaxing him back. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I still don’t know what I’m going to do.” Wesley settled back down, resting his head on Giles’ shoulder. Between the whiskey and the sex, he felt his emotional barriers crumbling. “There’s no place for me here. Buffy certainly doesn’t need me. And I-I haven’t got the plane fare to-to England.” His throat closed up with emotion. “N-no one wants…” He inhaled sharply, unable to finish the thought out loud.

“I do.” Gentle hands stroked his shoulders and hair, encouraging Wesley to lift his chin and meet Giles’ eyes. In the depths of his eyes, Wesley saw only compassion and caring. “If this evening didn’t prove it, then, perhaps others will.”

Wesley couldn’t believe it; the words seemed impossible, and he wondered if he was dreaming. Perhaps he was really asleep in his motel bed, cold and alone. But Giles’ arms around him felt warm, and wonderfully real. “What do you mean, others?” he asked, throat suddenly tight.

“Wesley…” Giles whispered. “Would you please stay?”

It took Wesley a minute to form the words. “You want me? To stay here, with you?”

“Very much. But it is your choice.”

Fear and hope warred through Wesley, competing for space within his head for a whole fifteen seconds, before he answered.

“Yes!” He blushed at the fervor of his reply. “I mean, if you want me, then…then I do want to stay. Here, with you, Rupert.” Giles smiled at him, and it was so infectious that Wesley smiled back. His nervousness faded away as they kissed, gently.

Curled together, they drifted off into contented sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backup story written for [](http://sottovoce10.livejournal.com/profile)[**sottovoce10**](http://sottovoce10.livejournal.com/) who requested Giles/Wesley (and I don’t really remember what else. I hang my head in shame.) for the Wesley PWP ficathon, [Masterlist Here!](http://www.livejournal.com/users/versaphile/1296930.html), run by the lovely [](http://versaphile.livejournal.com/profile)[**versaphile**](http://versaphile.livejournal.com/), who also gave me a wonderful beta and helped me put just the right amount of plot in! This is the first time spoken about in my original offering for the PWP ficathon, [Anniversary](http://www.livejournal.com/users/bethynycfics/24567.html).


	2. Stay

“Please don’t…”

Wesley turned from the door. He glanced down and bit his lip before meeting his lover’s green eyes.

“Giles. I can’t go on living off you.”

“You aren’t.” Giles protested.

“I am.” Wesley looked down at the rug. “All my life I’ve followed orders. Father. The Council. And now, unconsciously, you as well.” He glanced down again, unable to watch the pain filling those eyes. “I need to find my own way.

Giles stepped forward. “I understand. Really, I do. But please, Wesley…”

Wesley swallowed, hard. “What.”

Gently, Giles kissed him on the lips. “Come back to me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breakup  
> Giles/Wesley, 100 word drabble  
> Angst!  
> I own nothing, certainly not angsty beautiful Watchers, though I wish I did. Joss does.
> 
> For the slashthedrabble prompt "Please don't..."


	3. Breakup Series #2: Five Letter Drabbles

  
Letter #1

Dear Giles,

An old friend from Oxford pointed me toward an opportunity, and here I am, temporary adjunct at the University of Chicago. Teaching beginning level language classes isn’t as exciting as being a Watcher, but it pays the bills for my studio and the basics of life.

At night, I hunt vampires. Some of the students are ‘enlightened’ as to the supernatural, and we met while patrolling the campus. We work well together. I think one girl might be a potential Slayer. Still fighting the good fight.

In any case, please don’t worry about me. I’m fine.

Regards,

Wesley

***

  
Letter #2

Dear Wesley,

Glad you have found a place for yourself where you feel comfortable.

I can’t say I don’t agree with what you have chosen; I did much the same in my younger years. I understand the need to make your own way in the world. It’s not easy, but in the long run you will succeed.

That said, things feel very lonely here. Buffy and Willow are busy with school, Xander is experimenting with a variety of careers, and I am bored stiff.

I thought we meant something more than ‘regards’ but if that’s how you feel…

Regards,

Giles  
  
***

  
Letter #3

Dear Giles,

I’ve had half a bottle of MacAllan trying to write this letter to you.

It isn’t that I don’t want to be with you—I do. You know me, better than anyone.

However, I don’t want to be just the spare researcher. I want more, to be worthy of more. I want to prove to myself, if no one else, that I’m not a complete and total failure, as my father is so very fond of saying.

Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you could very easily become my crutch.

I…dream about you, Rupert.

Yours,

Wesley

  
***

Letter #4

Dear Wesley,

I am so very sorry. Pay no attention to my whinging—I just…

And I dream about you as well. Monday, I dreamed of you fighting vampires; you took down two with deadly aim from the crossbow.

Afterwards you went home and took a long shower. You looked different, muscles more defined. You stroked yourself in the shower, so bloody sexy, and when you came it had to be wishful thinking on my part, because I thought I heard you say my name.

Let’s not allow this friendship to become strained. I do understand. Truly.

Yours ever,

Rupert.

  
***

Letter #5

Dear Rupert,

I’m at a bit of a loss. You see, that is exactly what happened that night. Perhaps you were projecting?

Leaving was the right thing to do, no matter how painful. Had I remained, I would have sunk into a spiral of dependence. No matter how much I want to be with you, that would simply mean that I replaced my father with you.

I am resolved in this, and I hope by standing on my own I will, for lack of a better term, grow up at last.

When I’m ready, you will know.

Yours always,

Wesley


	4. Breakup Series #3: A Phone Call and A Visit

A Phone Call  
200 words  


\--Giles here

\--Rupert Giles?

\--Yes.

\--My name is Anna Davies, and I’m a social worker here at Chicago Municipal Hospital.

\--Wh-what happened? (Sound of Giles sitting.)

\--You are listed as next of kin for Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. There’s been an incident.

\--Oh Lord. Is-is he…?

\--He’s in stable condition. We can’t quite discern what caused his injury. The doctors have narrowed it down to either a mugging or a dog bite.

\--Bloody hell! Oh! Excuse me.

\--Quite all right, I’ve heard worse. Are you Mr. Pryce’s…partner?

\--Partner?

\--Or other family member. We have a strict policy of only allowing family members or significant others to visit Intensive Care.

\--(firmly) Yes. Partner.

\--But you’re in California.

\--Only a temporary separation, due to work conflicts.

\--I see. In any case, we need someone who can make some decisions.

\--I can be there tomorrow. Can you give me the rest of the information?

\--Of course. For his sake, I’m glad you’re coming. He lost a lot of blood, and is a bit delirious. He asked for you.

\--(sound of clicking) I’m booking a flight now.

The Visit  
300 words

  
Giles was exhausted. After packing the barest necessities, he bribed Xander to drive him to LAX. The flight was a horror show of delays and screaming babies, but Giles barely registered anything but getting to Chicago as quickly as possible.

Once in Chicago, he didn’t even find a hotel; just went directly to the hospital.

Ms. Davies had paved the way for him, and shortly after his arrival he was escorted to Wesley’s side, without a second glance. Two floors up and one corridor over, and he found himself in ICU. Wesley’s room had three beds, but for now he was alone.

Wesley looked so very young, sleeping, glasses off and hair tousled. A large bandage covered half his throat, and various tubes and wires were inserted just about everywhere. His skin was paler than normal, and Giles couldn’t help but notice the IV replacing the blood loss.

Giles swallowed a sigh at the sight of him. The tiny sound roused Wesley, eyes fluttering open to widen in shock at Giles.

For a minute, Giles knew he could not speak, for if he did all his emotional control would vanish instantly. Instead, he stepped closer, taking up the cold hand that didn’t have quite so many tubes sticking out of it and chafing it in his own. He was still wearing his greatcoat, a useless item for California, but required for a Chicago winter.

Wesley’s gaze held him, and the younger man mouthed silently “You came.”

Giles nodded, blinking away the moisture from his eyes. Rather than let go of Wesley’s hand to polish his glasses, he leaned forward to kiss Wesley’s forehead.

“Please,” he murmured, emotion filling his voice. “Don’t leave me.”

Wesley’s hand tightened with surprising strength. A breathy sound, less than a whisper, was the reply.

“Never.”


	5. Breakup Series #4: Decisions

It wasn’t easy, leaving Chicago.

Wesley had life there, not comfortable, but certainly fulfilling.

Emily cried and hugged him at the airport. Crawford humbly asked him to stay, to give a new Watcher of a Potential the benefit of his field experience. Sam threatened to flunk all of his classes and Chip simply touched his arm and nodded in understanding.

His very own Scooby gang, and he was leaving them.

They knew where to contact him, and Crawford saw the value of friends for a Slayer. His ‘replacement’ would not mimic his own mistakes. Still, Wesley felt a twinge of guilt at his decision.

But when he looked at Rupert, he knew patrolling that night had been the right decision.

~~~  
_“Please. Don’t struggle. It makes the blood taste all—funny.” He had fought the lassitude of the vampire’s bite, managed to stake it despite his weakened condition. He wouldn’t make it to his room, and bleeding like this made him an easy mark. A pay phone call to 9-1-1 before passing out._

Waking up to see Rupert before him.  
~~~

“Do you think…?” Giles raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, Rupert.” He laced their fingers together on the armrest. “I’ll stay.”


	6. Anniversary

  
Anniversary

Hand in hand, Wesley and Giles walked to the Winemaker’s Suite at the Sequoia View Bed and Breakfast. Dinner at the steakhouse was excellent, and now it was time for a proper dessert, served with a bottle of Alicante Bouschet, the flagship vintage of the winery pressed on them by their hosts.

Wesley paused at the double doors leading to the balcony before opening them wide, allowing the heady scent of the summer vineyard flood the bedroom. Rupert brought him a glass of the Bouschet as well as one for himself, and put his arm around him. They shared a kiss before gazing out at the magnificent view of the Sequoia Valley.

“Happy Anniversary,” Giles whispered in his ear, before sharing a wine-flavored kiss.

“Is it?” asked Wesley. “I thought December…”

“I’m counting from when I first knew.”

“Knew what?” Wesley took another sip of the excellent wine and rubbed Giles’ back.

Rupert took another mouthful and swallowed hard. “That I wanted this, to be with you. It nearly broke me when you left, you know.” Setting the wineglass down on the table, he drew Wesley off the balcony, one arm around him.

“I felt the same; ached for you, every day, but I needed to go.”

“I know, I know.” Giles took the nearly-empty glass from Wesley and cupped his chin for a lingering kiss. “We’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Candles filled the room with a warm, flickering light, bathing the two men in a glow that echoed their love. Giles’ hands drifted down, unbuttoning Wesley’s silk shirt worn for their dinner out. Slowly, he untucked it from his trousers and pushed it off his shoulders, revealing Wesley’s trimly muscled chest. Giles’ hands skimmed over his chest, wincing inside just a touch at the scars left behind by Faith.

Wesley fumbled at Giles’ shirt, finally opening it to the point where his chest was exposed. Breaking the kiss, he trailed his tongue down Giles’ neck to his collarbone, struggling briefly to free the older man from the silk. Returning the favor, Giles nuzzled Wesley’s neck, alternating kisses with nips, until he could feel his lover’s arousal hard against his own. He moaned and snuck one hand between them to palm Wesley’s cock through the trousers.

The answering whimper set him on fire, and quickly he wrestled with Wesley’s belt and fly until his lover’s cock throbbed at his touch. Wesley growled, deep in his throat, and wrapped his arms around Giles to drag him towards the bed. The younger man tipped back, landing with Giles on top, before reaching to open his slacks. It was difficult, considering that their crotches were practically welded together, but Wesley managed.

Briefly, Giles wondered at Wesley’s creativity before deciding exactly how to reward it. Pulling back enough to meet Wesley’s eyes, he grinned and slid down his lover’s body, dragging down his trousers and boxers. Once they were clumped at his ankles, Giles frowned in frustration before quickly removing Wesley’s shoes and all the rest.

“Now that’s hardly fair.” Wesley craned his head up. “You’re still dressed.”

“Why don’t you do something about it?” Giles teased and, in a moment, found himself face down on the bed as Wesley stripped him efficiently. He began to turn over, but instead, Wesley was atop him, holding him down and biting his shoulder.

The feel of skin on skin, no matter how familiar in the year since they first became lovers, was electrifying. Combined with Wesley’s passionate bite, he could only want more. He tried to turn over, but Wesley wouldn’t let him, instead sliding up and down Giles, rubbing his cock against his lower back, arse, and thighs.

“Gorgeous,” Wesley whispered. “Look.” Giles glanced to the side at their reflection in the huge mirror. He watched Wesley dip his head to caress the bitten spot with this tongue, saw the tip of his cock trace along the base of his spine. Giles felt surrounded, covered, enveloped by Wesley, and a surge of love rolled through him, a tsunami of emotion. He twisted his head over his shoulder and was rewarded by a deep kiss.

He pushed himself up, and sat back on his heels as Wesley moved back to accommodate him. Wesley’s hands roamed his chest as Giles reached back to caress Wesley’s thighs. He moved forward just enough to snake a hand behind his back to hold Wesley’s cock. Wesley groaned at his touch and thrust into his hand, allowing one of his hands to drift over Giles’ buttocks before sliding along the crease. Giles gasped and pushed back into the teasing fingers. “Want you.”

“Yes” Wesley’s voice was low and intense.

The synergy of their relationship was such that they almost had no need for words. In concert, they moved off the bed and removed the quilt, leaving the sheets clear for rumpling. Giles stepped away briefly to bring the bottle and glasses to the bedside table. Wesley was already on the bed, a little smile playing over his face as he stroked his cock lightly, watching his lover.

Giles poured a little wine into a glass. “Let’s see if we can’t improve the flavor, shall we?” He wriggled back onto the bed between Wesley’s legs. After dipping one finger into the glass, he ran it along the underside of Wesley’s cock, grinning at the shiver that rolled through the younger man’s body. He did it again, watching Wesley’s expression, before setting the glass down on the floor. Giles locked eyes with Wesley as he slowly dipped his head to the straining cock and licked sensually along the length.

The moan from Wesley sent arousal racing through his body. He drew Wesley’s cock into his mouth, caressing it with the soft inner flesh of his cheeks, and hummed his pleasure.

“Keep that up and I won’t be able to fuck you.” His lover’s amused voice didn’t break his concentration, but it did make Giles smile around Wesley’s shaft and place a final teasing lick on the tip.

“Wouldn’t want that.” He crawled up Wesley’s body, enjoying the feel of skin on skin and the exquisite combination of rough and smooth. Soft lips surrounded by stubble fascinated Giles as he captured his mouth, tongues caressing and tasting.

Slowly they moved, hands stroking always, until Wesley was over him. Giles didn’t even notice Wesley opening the lube; he was so intent on these slow, sexy kisses that the cool slickness of Wesley’s fingers teasing at him came as a bit of a shock. He jumped, then eased himself.

Wesley smiled at him, eyes filled with passion and desire. “Nice to know I can still surprise you,” he whispered, before sliding one finger inside.

Giles gasped a bit, then relaxed, returning Wesley’s smile. “We could be together for years, and you would still surprise me.”

It wasn’t long before Giles was prepared. Wesley put on a condom and moved inside. Giles arched, as Wesley thrust into him. They were both too old for frantic teenage rutting; their lovemaking combined intimate knowledge of each other with love. Giles’ cock was trapped between their bodies, and, again, the sensation of being surrounded by Wesley coursed through him. He lifted his hips and keened at the sensation, Wesley’s cock hitting just right.

Wesley drove inside Giles, and held still, trembling slightly. Both of them slowed their breathing, until Wesley gave a wicked smile and brought one of Giles’ legs over his shoulder, plunging even deeper as he regained their previous pace. He allowed the leg to slide off as he leaned in to capture Giles’ mouth.

Open-mouthed kisses, growing in passion as their rhythm sped. Giles felt himself building towards his release, could feel Wesley’s tension as well. “So close, Wes, so close…” he breathed, Wesley panting into his ear. “Love you!”

Wesley gasped out as well, groaning, “Love you, Rupert…” and Giles could feel the throb of Wesley’s orgasm deep inside, pushing him over the brink. Wesley collapsed on him, and Giles held his lover as their sweat cooled in the breeze from the balcony.

Later they bathed in the old-fashioned slipper tub, Giles nestled behind Wesley. He gently kissed Wesley’s neck, before Wesley leaned back in his arms to rest together. Their breathing sent the steam rising from the tub swirling in miniature spirals.

Giles sighed, completely contented. “Happy anniversary, Wesley.”

Wesley leaned against Giles’ cheek affectionately. “Happy anniversary, Rupert.”


End file.
